Gone Fishin'

Henry Stark took a deep breath, the salty aroma of the sea air made him feel good. Two weeks holiday in Devon was just what he needed, a total break from the noisy, tedious work he endured in the car factory back home. The doctors had warned him, take a break now or look forward to a nervous breakdown. He was glad to take their advice, he had not had a vacation for over six years, it was about time.

He was looking forward to today, he was going fishing, just himself, a small boat, a packed lunch and a fishing rod, perfect seclusion. There was nothing more relaxing than a days angling in a gentle sea.

He paid the man at the shore for the hire of a small rowing boat and then set out into the sea. The waters in this area were renowned for their good fishing, he anticipated a very pleasant day afloat.

After a while he stopped rowing, he was quite a distance from the shore, a perfect place he thought to cast his first line.

For an hour he waited yet did not get one bite. Strange, he thought, these waters were usually so good, maybe a larger fish had frightened them away. Then again, nothing too large, after all this was the coast of Devon, not some tropical ocean.

He decided to have a little nap for a while, the sea was beautifully calm and if he did get a bite the jerking of the boat would awaken him.

As he slept the small boat drifted further and further out to sea.

A couple of hours passed, clouds began to gather and the Sun disappeared behind them, a chill filled the sea air. The abrupt change in the weather awoke Henry Stark from his slumbers.

He looked at his watch, it was getting late, soon it would be dark, time he thought to be getting back to dry land. He reached forward to pick up his fishing rod, it had gone. It must have fallen overboard while he slept. Damn, he thought, my favourite rod gone. Still he had a brand new one back on shore, he could always try again tomorrow. His hands slid back to grasp the oars and begin the long row to shore. A chill struck him colder than the sea air that surrounded him, they too had gone! He was stranded, afloat out here, miles from shore, the land was not even visible, even if it was he had no way of reaching it without the oars.

He felt terrified, here he was in a small wooden boat, surrounded by nothing but grey water and rapidly darkening skies. It was a hopeless situation. Then he remembered, every night the coast guard patrolled these waters, within a short while they would come across him, he would just sit and wait until they found him. He wished he had a flare gun but that too had gone overboard with the rod and the oars. He put on a heavy coat, it was getting even colder.

Hours passed, there was no sign of the coast guard and darkness surrounded everything. The only light came from the moon and the tiny luminescent creatures which seemed to be everywhere in the sea. His hopes began to leave him and were replaced with pangs of fear. Thoughts of sea monsters and spirits began to fill his mind, on land these thoughts would have been amusing, alone at sea, they were disturbing. He could have sworn he heard the wailing lament of a mermaid, or was it just his fear inspired imagination?

He looked to his left, something moved in the water! No, he was mistaken, it was just a wave, again his imagination had fooled him.

Another hour passed, still no sign of the coast guard, He felt wretched, if he did not freeze to death, he would probably drown, he was not the strongest of swimmers and the boat on closer inspection did not look the sturdiest of vessels.

He let his hand trail in the cold, murky water, the sea was even colder than the air about him. Suddenly his whole body jerked in horror and revulsion! He fell back into the boat, almost overturning it in the process, his hand had touched something in the water, something rough and hard. He steadied the boat, terrified that he may fall in with whatever lay below.

He looked into the water, he could see nothing, whatever it was, it had gone.

Henry Stark sat there in that tiny wooden boat, totally helpless, totally alone, ravaged by the cold and far worse, by the fear of the unknown.

He felt the boat jerk violently, he almost fell out, and then he saw it, in the water, a dark shape just below the surface. It was massive, gliding silently past the boat. He could not tell what it was, there were supposedly no big fish in these waters.

Again he could see the huge dark shape, it was circling the boat, biding it's time, but for what?

He took in it's full size, it was even bigger than he he had first thought, it was enormous, totally dwarfing the tiny wooden vessel.

Once more the massive bulk knocked violently into the side of the small boat, Henry Stark held on for dear life and sanity.

In terrified fascination he gazed at it's silent massive shape, it had no fins or tail, it was neither whale nor shark, it possessed no shell or tentacles, it was not an octopus or squid.

It was just a gigantic black shape which glided silently through it's own dark domain. What hideous creature could it be?

Pure terror gripped him, he had to get away from that thing, that unknown creature. If he knew what it was that would allay some of the fears but it was a mystery, an unknown horror, perhaps never before seen by human eyes and now it had sensed him and was coming for him.

With his hands he paddled in the sea but it was useless, the boat hardly moved at all and within a few minutes he was exhausted.

He fell back in the boat, broken physically and mentally. Tears streamed from his eyes, he knew that his situation was totally hopeless.

His feet felt wet, he looked down into the boat, water was seeping in, at the base of the boat was a hole that had been repaired but now those shoddy repairs were disintegrating and falling apart before his eyes. He grabbed for his plastic lunch box and pathetically tried to bale out the ever increasing flow of water. He looked about him for the thing, for the moment it had gone.

He twisted to his right, he had heard something loud and deep, it was a ships horn, he could not believe it, they were not that far away, within a few minutes they would be right on top of him, he could see their lights in the distance.

Again the sensation of cold water at his feet forced his attentions away from the ship. With renewed vigour he began to bale the murky sea water from the boats wooden frame but it was becoming increasingly difficult, the hole in the bottom of the boat was getting bigger.

Faster and faster the cold, dark sea gushed into the dying boats hull, its speed had overtaken his attempts at baling, the boat was beginning to sink. He looked up, he could see the ship! It was less than a minute away, soon he would be safe and dry on board.

He shouted at the top of his voice, 'Over here, I'm over here!' As he expelled those words he felt the crumbling wooden boat sink beneath him.

He could hear the ships engines as he paddled weakly in the sea, it was just seconds away.

Below him in the cold black sea, a large dark shape moved silently towards him.